The Life of Syndra
by Purplemoonsong
Summary: An outlook into Syndra's past and present. / Please leave reviews, even if you don't like it. Apparently, not a lot of people like this story, so I would like to know why.
1. Chapter 1

Six years ago, when the full yellow moon was high in the sky, I was born in a small thatched hut in the southern part of the beautiful island known as Ionia.

As the stars shone brightly overhead, a tired woman cradled her tiny child, me, for the first time.

Her husband, my father, was dead, having died of a peculiar sickness. Mother had been unable to get him to Soraka in time. During the trip to the Starchild's grove, he had collapsed, his face ashen, chest still. She had screamed, and cursed whatever deity there was, if there was one. But eventually, her grief gave way to the most human of instincts: survival.

She buried my father in the rich brown soil that Ionia was so famous for. Neighbors all came to comfort her. Many brought flowers to grace my father's grave.

My mother was a resilient woman. She knew that her husband was the provider in the family. Without him, there was no way to make money. My mother knew that she must take up a trade.

As a child, she had always been interested in the plants, always collecting the most beautiful of flowers and most intriguing of plants and fungi. In her time of need, she put her knowledge to good use. She became the village's local herbalist.

But soon, she had other things to think of. When she realized she was pregnant, she was overjoyed. She hoped for a son, perhaps to remind her of her husband. She was disappointed in that respect.

The labor was a long and tiring one. A week before it began, my mother's sister, my aunt, came from her village to care for her. When the labor began, my aunt was always with my mother.

How disappointed my mother must have been when she realized I was a girl. But to her credit, she never once wavered in her love for me.

Once my mother was able to go about her business again, she sent her sister away. And that was when she discovered that there was something about me that set me apart from regular children.

First, the pupils of my eyes were a light shade of lilac.

Second, my hair was silver.

But my mother did not show hatred or dislike towards me for these abnormalities. She raised me as she saw fit, ignoring the whispers directed at me, except to glare sharply at the whisperer.

She used to tell me the most wonderful stories, mostly about my father. She told me about how he swept her off her feet.

She met him at the Placidium, the capitol of Ionia. She described it to me, telling me of the picturesque mountains, the cascading waterfalls that shone like diamonds when the sunbeams glanced off them, the chunks of glowing azure crystal floating above the magnificent golden-roofed structures.

They met at a trading stall. She had been trying to sell a hand-stitched Ionian dress at a fair price, but the Bilgewater trader refused, trying to persuade her to sell it at an outrageously low price.

My father had intervened, and together they managed to persuade the trader into buying the dress at the price my mother had bargained for.

A simple act of friendship turned into something more, and a year later, they married one another.

But this is my story. Not theirs.


	2. Chapter 2

I put down the book I was reading, and sigh, gazing out of the cottage window. My power seems restless, and I am too. I want to do something.

My mother and I discovered my power when I was but one year old. Now I am six, and my power has grown a great deal. When I was younger, lifting things was a challenge. Now, household chores have become simple: controlling a mop or a scrub brush takes not even an iota of my power or concentration.

I toss my silver hair over my shoulder, and stand, dusting off my lilac dress. My eyes are slightly darker now, no longer a light shade of lilac, merely lilac.

I glance down at the ground, at the grey dust filming the lush green beauty of the bamboo floor. The next moment, a broom floats into the room and begins sweeping. I watch it for a while before turning my back upon it.

"Mother, may I go into the crystal room?" I call.

"Yes, but try not to break anything." My mother calls back.

My mother gathered many different crystals, and asked me to imbue them with healing magic. I did so gladly, but soon that too took very little of my concentration and power. Now, I can barely even feel the minimal drain on my magic.

I step into the room, and watch the gems sparkle under the sun. Mother cannot afford precious stones, so she buys semiprecious ones: topazes, aquamarines, garnets, peridots, opals, turquoises, and amethysts.

I pick up an amethyst and toss it into the air. A shaft of sunlight pierces the gem, and using my magic, I hold the amethyst there. It sparkles, sending violet light glancing off different surfaces. Staring up at it in wonder, I hold up my hand. The amethyst slowly descends into my hand, and my fingers close around it. I narrow my lilac eyes, focusing solely upon the gem in my hand. Raw power surges through my hands, and the gem explodes into an iridescent purple powder.

_That was exhilarating. _I laugh ecstatically, grabbing an onyx from a nearby pile. It shatters into dust, which rains down onto the floor to mix with the violet powder.

I stare at the mess on the ground, my smile disappearing. _It seems such a shame to let this gem dust go to waste._ I concentrate. Closing my eyes, I feel the dust beginning to come together, solidifying into what will hopefully be a sphere.

When I open my eyes again, I see a perfectly formed sphere, streaked with amethyst and onyx swirls.

I lift the sphere into the air. Seemingly dull out of the sunlight, once the sphere touches the beam of light, it sparkles beautifully, sending dazzling rays of light around the room.

I smile in delight. Tomorrow, I will be able to make these spheres effortlessly. My power will grow, and I will take on even harder challenges.

But still, my power sings in my blood, tingling in every vein, sending a thrill through me, telling me to do more.

I hold out a hand, palm up, and call upon my powers. Magic infuses every vein and artery in my body, and I channel my power onto my hand.

Small wisps of violet magic begin manifesting above my hand, condensing and combining into a sphere. I laugh again, even as I strain to maintain the magic.

Finally, a glowing dark sphere hovers in front of me.

I sit down on the ground, and admire the beautiful thing I just created. My power no longer begs to be released, it is satisfied with the challenge of this conjuration.

_Now, tomorrow, I'll have no problem conjuring two more… three should be enough._

_Then I'll start experimenting with maintaining them and keeping them around me._


	3. Chapter 3

"My name is Darren, and I'm from Noxus." The new student announces.

Now thirteen years old, I sit in the classroom. Playing with my long silver hair, or fiddling with my simple violet robes, examining my long purple nails, I listen to the boy's speech, not even bothering to disguise my boredom. My eyes have grown darker, and they have become violet in color. In fact, my eyes are completely violet. No pupils, or irises, or whites: just pure violet.

My powers have grown, and if I wished, I could have dark spheres orbiting me all I wanted. Just last week, frustrated with the lack of things to use magic upon, and the elders of our village trying to prevent me from even using my magic, I vented my feelings out onto a tree in a secluded part of the forest near our village. It did not survive.

After I destroyed the tree, I discovered a clearing near it. I almost live there now. Only there can I truly be alone. I can use my powers all I want, without reprimanding from the elders of our village, fools that they are.

My mother respects my wish of solitude. She merely requests that I return every night before dark. And I follow her request. She has done nothing but help me on my quest for power.

The boy ends his tedious introduction, and sits down next to me, as the next new student stands.

"What's your name?" He asks, curiously.

"My name is Syndra." I reply in a monotone. The Noxian children once came from a Noxian orphanage, which was destroyed. Having nowhere to go, their headmistress, originally from Ionia, returned to the place she was born in, bringing the children with her. The elders of my village took pity on the children, and gave them a home.

"That's a weird name." He laughs.

"It is not as weird as Darren." I don't even bother looking at him.

I see his frown from the corner of my eye. "Stop insulting me!"

"If you think that is an insult, then why did you insult me first?"

Some of the classmates around us begin to giggle. Darren shoots me a murderous glance.

"You'll pay for this humiliation." Darren hisses, before spinning around to watch the teacher.

I smile coldly. _As if he could make me "pay."_

When the bell rings for our noontime meal, I stay seated, watching everyone else leave the classroom. When there is no one left, I pick up my books, and walk out of the classroom.

I grimace in irritation as I trip over a small rock, but manage to steady myself before I fall. _If I were floating, I wouldn't have tripped._

Just before I enter the lunchroom, I realize that five boys are blocking the doors, and blocking my way in. It's Darren and the other new students, all from Noxus.

_No wonder. The Ionian belief is to attain spiritual evolution and enlightenment, and to work in harmony with each other. These Noxians, they do not believe in this, and so are inclined to perform acts of vengeance._

_The thought of vengeance is… tantalizing. No balance to it, no restraint. Just how I like it._

"You humiliated me in front of the entire class today." Darren says, pushing his sleeves up his arms. "Now, we're going to teach you a lesson."


	4. Chapter 4

"You think that you will." A malevolent smile curves upon my lips, and I ready myself for his attack.

All of them charge forwards at once, but I am ready. With a sweep of my hand, all five of them are flung back against the doors to the lunchroom, which rattles in its frame.

"You have some tricks." Darren wipes his nose with his hand, and examines the crimson liquid. "But we can still take you." His cohorts stand up from where they were sprawled on the ground, sporting various bleeding minor injuries.

"Fools." I hiss, my voice echoing through the halls.

One of Darren's henchmen attacks first, but I rise into the air, veins tingling with magic longing to be set free, to be allowed to destroy them.

"Get down here and fight me!" He roars.

I look down at him in disgust. "If it is a fight you want, then a fight you shall have!"

I stretch out a hand, willing a dark sphere to appear.

The ground cracks open as a sphere emerges from underneath the boy, knocking him onto the ground. His eyes roll up into his head. _He won't be getting up anytime soon._

Darren nods at another boy. Two others detach themselves and race towards me.

One of them cleverly jumps up, grabbing my ankle, trying to pull me down. And down I fall, until I'm standing on top of his unconscious body.

The second swallows nervously, but he still aims a punch at me. I dodge, before another sphere cracks the ground open, sending the other boy onto the ground.

Finally, Darren and the other boy begin their attack. I weave around their punches, dodging every attack.

I laugh, exhilarated, as my power screams to be let loose. I comply, slamming the boys against the walls. One cracks his head against it, and promptly faints. The other, Darren, still struggles in my magical grip.

"Let me go and fight me!" He shouts.

"I did fight you." I reply, coldly. "And you lost."

I bash him against the wall once more, and he loses consciousness.

My triumphant smile vanishes when a teacher comes running down the hallways.

"Goodness, Syndra!" She gasps, holding a hand to her lips. "What did you do to them?"

"They attacked me first!" I protest.

"That's your story." She frowns at me. "Come with me."

Sullenly, I walk behind her, and she guides me to an empty classroom.

"Stay here." She orders, before leaving the room.

_Why are they treating me like the criminal? I was acting in pure self-defense! They were the ones who attacked me first!_

An hour later, the door opens again. It's the same teacher. But this time, one of the village elders is standing next to her, looking somber.

"Syndra." He takes a seat, and the teacher leaves. "You know that we don't approve of your use of magic."

"They attacked me! Blatantly attacked me!" I shout.

"Why don't you tell me the whole story?"

"When he sat down from his speech, he asked me what my name was. I told him, and he laughed and said that it was a weird name. I told him his name was weird, and he said that I'd insulted him. Then, I said that if he considered that an insult, why did he insult me? He thought I humiliated him, so he, and the rest of the new students from Noxus decided to gang up on me and try to hurt me! I was merely acting in self defense!"

The elder fixes his eyes on me, sternly. "Syndra, we will look into this." He leans forward. "However… I must warn you not to use your magic so recklessly."

The elder stands. "It may not end well for you."


	5. Chapter 5

"Useless." I scoff, tossing another book into a growing pile of uselessness.

I am now sixteen, and my magic has grown enormously. Instead of violet robes, now I wear black ones. I have painted my long nails black as well. My eyes have started glowing, which contrasts with my deathly pale skin, but otherwise, they have remained the same.

To the library's credit, they had many books on magic. But not many of them were useful in helping me develop my powers.

I throw the last books into the useless pile. I pick up the one battered and small book that will serve my needs.

As I open it, my mind flits to the day in school, where I was forced to defend myself using magic.

_It may not end well for you._

Anger bubbles up inside me. _How dare he presume that it will not end well for _me_, Syndra, with my godlike powers?_

"Pathetic!" I scream. The useless books and the elder's words push me over the edge. The three dark spheres orbiting me begin to move erratically.

I whirl around, and a dark sphere bursts out of the ground, uprooting a tree. Using magic, I catapult it at a circle of trees growing close together, sending them crashing onto other trees.

My black robes billow around me as I will destruction to happen. My black painted nails glow purple with my magic as I manipulate the spheres, killing tree after tree.

Finally, I stop, surveying the damage around me.

Trees lie on the ground, branches are littered everywhere, and the grass is covered with stray leaves.

I sink down onto my knees, still clutching the book. Collapsing onto my side, I flick through the pages of the book, reading it.

Then, I rise from my place, and begin flying back home, my feet never once touching the ground.

Gliding into my cottage, I light the lanterns, allowing their warm light to illuminate my cottage.

Then, I glide out the back door of the hut, and kneel in front of the pair of gravestones.

"Mother, I'm here." I murmur softly, fingers brushing the dirt in front of the grave.

Planted in the grave soil is a tiny seedling, one that will eventually blossom into a lily. It is the Ionian way, to change the sadness of death into the happiness of life. Though I do not fully approve of all aspects of Ionia's culture, I remain ambivalent towards this practice. Mother was Ionian, and she would have wanted me to follow this practice.

I turn to the other grave. "Father." I say, less affectionately, but only because he died before I was born. The seedling on his grave is one that will eventually become a great oak tree.

_It will be a beautiful, pure white lily, blossoming under the great, stolid, majestic oak tree._

"Mother, I know that you approved of my pursuing my power." I direct my words at the growing lily. I lightly touch it with a fingertip, and it seems to be trying to stand taller.

_Part of my mother's spirit resides within it._

"My power is still growing, Mother. I know you would be happy to hear that."

I sit there for a while longer, before standing, and reentering my hut.


End file.
